


i can see through you

by naiadies



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Invisible Tim, Magical Tim Drake, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, batfam will come in later on, tim is magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naiadies/pseuds/naiadies
Summary: tim has a magical heritage that causes certain...complications when he’s upset.akatim fades to invisibility when he’s mistreated/incredibly upset (like ninny from adventures in moominvalley)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 351





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imma be honest,  
> 1) i haven’t read any comics, all my information comes from fics  
> 2) i haven’t seen or read adventures in moominvalley, all my information comes from fics and my own brain  
> and 3) i haven’t written a fic in three years so i am a bit rusty

Timothy Jackson Drake was a vibrant child. 

His smile lit up the room: chubby baby cheeks blushing pink, blue eyes sparkling. Janet Drake’s friends all cooed and giggled at him, enamored with her child and wanting their own. As he grew, his smile never faded save for the rare moments that his parents were busy. 

Tim (watched closely by a nanny) toddled around after various bugs and jumped in mud puddles, still smiling as he explored. Then, one day in June, his parents decided that he had grown to be independent enough. They told Tim that, their work had moved on, so they had to follow it. The next day the family said their goodbyes and the Drake couple was off to Greece.

That fall, Tim started preschool. It was exciting, scary, and such a change that Tim was content living without his parents there. Of course, the Drake’s had been back since their trip to Greece, but not for longer than two weeks. Janet and Jack saw Tim off on his first day of school, his cheeks bright and hair styled back. He bounced all through class and rambled wildly when he got home. The rest of the week after that went quite similarly before the Drake’s left once again.

The rest of Tim’s school year went as such: Tim did his work excitedly, his parents came and went, and Tim got progressively less excited.

One evening in spring, when the Drake’s were readying to leave, Tim got upset. He started crying, big crocodile tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, hitching breaths while he begged his parents not to leave. Both parents startled, and the Janet jumped into action, wiping Tim’s tears with her thumb. Tim heaved another sob and wiped his other eye, and it was then that they all noticed. Jack gasped, Janet’s face turned stony, and Tim was shocked out of his crying.

Tim’s little fingers were completely gone, faded up to his wrist.

“Oh, Timmy,” Janet said sadly. Tim looked up at her in shock.

Tim’s eyebrows were raised in worry, eyes starting to glisten again. “What happened to my fingers, mama?” Janet’s face calmed into a faint smile.

“Don’t worry, darling, this can happen. You’ve just gotten a bit upset, and your body wanted to show it,” she explained calmly. “You know, I went invisible once. My mother had known exactly what was happening, so she comforted me and told me what was going on.” Tim had completely stopped crying and Janet was holding his hands between her own. “And, see? You’re already coming back!” She showed him his little hands, slowly fading back into sight, if a little bit pale. 

The Drake’s ended up staying a few more days, during which Janet taught Tim more about his heritage of...gifted individuals. Janet showed Tim a family heirloom that her mother had given her; The Book of Remedies. It was a small notebook, pages yellowed and ripped, smelling like herbs and spices. (It was undoubtedly the rattiest item Janet Drake owned.) Janet showed Tim the information on invisibility and the many reasons one could start fading, including (but not limited to) being incredibly frightened, feeling smothered, or feeling very hurt. Janet explained that Tim may have started fading because he was upset at their travels, but of course nothing could help seeing as the couple had to travel in order to keep making money.

Tim had been so elated to be spending more time with his parents, but then they’d had to leave again. Another dig, Jack said. We’ll come back, Janet reassured. Tim took a breath. _They’ll come back._

The next year, they were there to send him off on his first day of kindergarten, and then gone the next week. This year, they started to leave for longer than one or two weeks. Now the couple was gone for a month or more, visiting for a week in between.

Tim was melancholy most days, walking around in the garden and studying the plants there, playing with the bugs. He seemed to be a bit too pale some days, which worried some teachers.

Eventually, a teacher called his parents. They expressed their concern about Timothy’s complexion, maybe he had some sort of illness? He seemed, impossibly, translucent on some days? It might simply be a lack of vitamins Mrs. Drake.

Nonetheless, this prompted Janet to call Tim.

“Timothy, you must stop this nonsense. I might understand when you fade while we are leaving, but there is no reason to be fading after we’ve left!” she griped.

“Yes, mother,” Tim gulped. Angry Janet was a force to be reckoned with, and Tim was only six.

“We will be transitioning you to tutors after this year. If you cannot get your act together, you must stay out of the public eye, lest you start popping in and out of existence where someone may see.” Janet remarked coldly. Tim felt something open inside him. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

For the next three years, Tim flickered. His tutors and caregivers had to be notified of his...condition, as he could be barely there one day and completely gone the next. When Tim was invisible, the tutors could only see his clothing, which made for very odd job experience.

Tim became a ghost in his own home. He went through his life as usual, exploring his house for great hiding spots, studying the gardens, learning from his tutors. It was incredibly odd.

And then when Tim was nine-years-old, he discovered the secret identities of Batman and Robin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, i haven’t written any fic in 3 years, so any comments (criticism or otherwise) are appreciated!!


	2. Chapter 2

Tim—who was a bit more solid these days—followed the dynamic duo laughably easily. 

Sure, he got scrapes and bruises from running and climbing and falling all around Gotham, but he was small and he was quiet and he was good at being small and quiet. Tim’s escapades went unnoticed because he went unnoticed. 

He takes the best pictures though. The lighting around Gotham varies from dim lights far below to beautiful and interesting neon lights, but Tim makes it work in his favor; lighting a looming Batman in a bright purple from below as he overlooks a shady club (watching for Falcone’s men) or a smirking Robin lit up in pale yellow as he crouches on the top of a building (after which he apparently got the go-ahead and he disappeared into a vent on the roof). And when Jason Todd appeared in the news as Bruce Wayne’s new ward—after Robin had been missing for several weeks—Tim caught a photo of Batman with a smaller (slightly more clothed) Robin and a new vigilante (no doubt Dick Grayson) all roof-hopping.

This new Robin was Tim’s favorite by far.

Yes, the original Robin was Dick Grayson, the smiley, friendly acrobat, but Jason Todd was entirely new. He swore (usually followed by a gentle reprimand by Batman), and he fought with less flair, and he was just different in a way Tim couldn’t quite place. Tim liked his attitude.

And so, Tim followed Batman and his new Robin for a few more years, taking artistic photos and light-hearted photos and goofy photos (most of which came from when Nightwing visited from Blüdhaven). Tim had the time of his life, adrenaline pumping through his veins each night as he blended into the shadows and ran all around Gotham. He picked up some self-defense and taught himself how to parkour and brought snacks to the street kids when he could. Tim thought it couldn’t get better.

And he was right. It got worse.

First, his parents had started to visit home more often. Their fights had Tim cowering in his closet—the furthest he could get from his locked bedroom door—while things broke and they yelled and stomped until finally two different bedroom doors slammed shut and everything went silent, and by then, Tim would be gone up to his knees and elbows, trying to breathe as quietly as he could, as if reminding them in the slightest that he was still in the house would set them off again.

(And Tim had checked The Book of Remedies, looked under _anger_ and _shattering_ and finally gave up and read the whole thing, but found nothing to help other than a strange herb that grew in the coldest parts of Siberia, and even then that was only to help when someone was shattering mirrors by looking at them. The remedy was to make a tea with this herb, and drive out and banish the negative mirror spirit, which wasn’t the case. 

And either way, it got Tim side-tracked with investigating whether there were _positive_ mirror spirits, or even neutral ones, and whether there were any in the house) 

(There totally is. They live in the mirror in a second-floor guest bedroom. It’s up in the air whether they are neutral or positive, but there’s been no mirror-shattering in the house, and they usually compliment Tim when he looks into the big vanity mirror, so he’s ruled out the possibility of them being negative. But the mirror on the second floor has been the only one in the whole house with a smudge-y spot that wasn’t put there, doesn’t come off, and also speaks with a disembodied, androgynous voice that regularly has Tim rubbing his neck and blushing from them complimenting him) (They always offer to teach him how to style his hair, but they also tease him about his sweater-and-button-up proper-ness like an older sibling)

Tim’s parents also pressure him even more about his grades and acting and looking proper, to be a successful Drake. It’s like the more they’re home, the more imperfections they spot. Timothy, comb your hair. Timothy, those pants are wrinkled. Timothy, you cannot smile with your teeth, you don’t want anyone to see that horrible gap! Timothy, surely you can’t be that upset? At this rate we may not ever be able to take you out in public! Go to your room until you’ve become visible again, seriously, he acts as if we hit him! At least I only ever went invisible once, could you believe it if my mother had to deal with this childishness?

Having his parents home means, more days spent fully invisible (sometimes not even able to speak) and no way to relieve the built up stress. Tim can’t sneak out with his parents home. He can’t escape into the shadows and the pretty lighting and the rush of being next to a fight. No, there’s no breathtaking perfect shot of the Bat’s anymore, there is only an empty feeling and an unused camera.

Then, Jason Todd dies.

It is heartbreaking. His favorite Robin? Only fifteen years old? That’s only two years older than Tim’s thirteen. Jason fucking Todd? Dead? So full of life and spunk and attitude that he’d tell a criminal to fuck off _to their face?_

This had to have been a mistake, there’s no way that Jason _fucking_ Todd _died_. 

And then Batman seemingly goes off the rails and starts beating criminals half to death with his rage and grief and newfound darkness.

So Tim completely disappears for about a week and a half. He still shows up in the study for his tutoring, despite being little more than a pile of clothes, what with his inability to speak or make any sound at all. His parents leave once again, which takes some pressure off somewhat, but Tim still stays see-through.

His invisibility gives him time to plan.

Tim uses his laptop and several differeng servers to hack security cameras in Blüdhaven. He finds out Dick Grayson’s address, and for good measure, also goes through the security cameras in Gotham to find Barbara Gordon as well. Surely, one of them will help Batman?

After this, Tim spends a few nights out in Gotham, trying to will himself to come back. He follows Batman around and calls the cops when it seems like the Bat is getting too rough, forcing the Bat to stop and move on. 

By the end of a week and a half, Tim buys some leather driving gloves and calls it a day. He’s going to get Batman some help. He puts on a hoodie with his gloves, wears long socks underneath his casual jeans and sneakers, grabs a couple extra things and leaves the house.

Once Tim has reached the city, he gets on the bus to Blüdhaven.

He pays the bus fare and sits and tries to be inconspicuous for an hour. Tim puts on his thirteen-year-old best _‘I’m an angsty teen, don’t talk to me’_ face. It seems to work, as no one bothers him the entire ride other than a few weird faces thrown his way.

After his bus ride (it smelled like burnt sulfur every time the doors opened and made him queasy), Tim is spit out a few blocks away from where he needs to be. He has a limited opening between when Dick gets back from his shift at the police department and when Nightwing starts his shift on the streets, so he speed-walks to the apartment building. For a few excruciating minuets, he can’t go in, until someone walks out and holds the door for him, assuming that he’s just a kid that forgot his key. 

Tim smiles to the kind person as he satisfifyingly feels his plan start to work.

He takes the elevator up to the right floor and takes a few deep breaths in preparation. 

As Tim knocks on Dick Grayson’s door, he has a moment of regret. But he remembers Batman’s bloodied gauntlets and the darkness he can see surrounding the Bat like it never has before, and he steels himself once more.

Dick Grayson answers the door with his emotions clear on display on his face. His bright smile doesn’t quite meet eyes, and he is definitely confused to see a kid outside his apartment, alone. 

“Hello! Um...are you a new neighbor?” 

“Uh…” Tim blanks for all of five seconds. _Great job, Tim_. “Uh, no! I’m not a new neighbor, I’m actually- I need to talk to you?” Tim cringes. This was much better in his head. _Get it together!_

“Oh?” Dick raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, but not here. May I come in?” Tim schools his face into a polite smile. 

Dick eyes him for a second, probably assessing him for a threat level, but as Tim is small and unassuming save for the dark clothes, he gets waved in. “Yeah, sure. Come on in!”

Tim ducks his head and stares at his feet as he walks in, composing himself. It’s one thing to follow heroes around at night, but it’s another thing totally to be standing in front of them, in all their glory as you try to convince them to go back to their mentor.

“Come, have a seat. Do you want anything to drink? There’s water, and soda, I can make tea?” Dick guides Tim to a small kitchen table. 

“No, I’m alright,” Tim smiles. 

“Well, okay then,” Dick concedes, and takes a seat. “Is everything all right? Is someone chasing you?” 

Tim starts. “Oh, no, this isn’t anything like that! See…my name’s Tim and we met…years ago when I visited the circus with my parents.” Dick nods for him to keep going. “You promised to do this one special move that night, a quadruple flip. Later on, a couple years later, Robin did the same move, and someone put a clip of it on TV.” Tim takes a deep breath. “I know that you used to be Robin. And I know that Bruce Wayne is Batman, and Barbara Gordon was Batgirl. And...I know that Jason Todd was Robin until he passed recently.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dick’s face was like solid steel, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” He started to stand, and Tim jumped up.

“Please! Batman needs your help!” Tim cries. Dick stills. “Ever since Jason died,” it’s a good thing he wore gloves, because he can feel his hands fade at the reminder, “Batman has gotten…violent. He beats criminals half to death. I’ve had to call the cops a couple times to make him stop.” Tim gulps. Dick’s eyebrows have furrowed, and he’s sitting back down, but he’s listening. “Please, I don’t know what to do. He’s always had a rule not to kill, but he’s spiraling and I’m afraid of what he might do.” Dick looks like he’s considering. Tim takes a shot. “Please...Batman _needs_ a Robin,” he pleads. 

Dick’s mouth screws up, and it’s the first sign that Tim had messed up. 

The next is, “I can’t go back to being Robin.” 

“But—“ Tim tries again.

“No. That’s just, not me anymore. I’m sorry,” Dick huffs a sigh. “I think you should go.”

Tim deflates. He sighs, and he’s already standing, so he waits for Dick to walk him to the door and open it for him. 

“Look, kid. Tim,” Tim looks up at Dick, waiting. Dick sighs and looks away. “I’ll talk to him.” He smiles one more time before shutting the door.

Tim gets back on the elevator.

_Well, that was a bust._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are appreciated!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have never in my life edited anything that ive written, sorry for any mistakes lmao

Tim waited a few days before going to Barbara Gordon, but their talk went similarly to his talk with Dick. That is to say, the sidekick couldn’t become a sidekick again.

In this case, it was more so due to Barbara being in a wheelchair, rather than an internal conflict keeping her from being a sidekick again. 

Barbara was nice to him, she invited Tim into her apartment much like Dick, but still turned him down all the same. She had agreed that Batman seemed to be getting darker, more rough, but shared Tim’s helpless feelings. Barbara couldn’t stop him when he was in the field, and she couldn’t convince him to get help for his grief. No therapists, no new coping mechanisms (other than the vigilantism). She and Dick had already been trying their best to convince Bruce to seek help, but apparently he’d outright refuse to, or he’d swiftly change the subject. Barbara had apologized to Tim, promised to talk to Dick about other ways to help Bruce, and then escorted him to the door.

So Tim was back to square one.

Well, not exactly! He now knew that two of his options were no longer applicable, and that’s gotta be some sort of step further!

Though, Tim couldn’t really think of any other options…

But! His parents had finally left for another trip (with a nod, a press-smile, and a “Goodbye Timothy” that left the thirteen-year-old feeling like something was missing, but also like everything had finally returned to a comfortable familiarity) which left Tim with more time to think things over and plan (and, secretly, more space to experiment with things he’d found in The Book of Remedies. Like, how to warm an entire room without electricity. All it took was a small jar that had cinnamon sticks and vanilla beans in it, a spoken mantra, and all of a sudden, Tim’s bedroom was comfortably warm and smelling good).

(And, come to find out, the reason the garden didn’t have any garden gnomes in it was because the grounds were warded against them. Who knew, the little things were troublemakers that invited weeds and pests and had parties with the fae in any gardens that weren’t warded? A dangerous thing, if any of them had set a trap, some poor groundskeeper would disappear and the garden would be unkempt. Tim very much liked the garden, the pretty flowers and the harmless little bugs, so he figured that knowing and practicing the wards was very important.)

Of course, Tim still took his parents’ nitpicking to heart, and the next week when his tutors were visiting, he stood in front of the mirror for longer than usual. He pondered what they had told him in the weeks before, and decided that he would have to disregard the mirror spirit’s advice. Tim felt bad about it, but he needed to be able to uphold the Drake name, and that came with being put together at all times, so he combed his hair correctly, gelled his bangs to stiffly swoop over his forehead, tucked in his collared shirt, and put on a sweater vest. His tutors had gotten used to his under-eye bags by now, as well as seeing him with missing limbs—regardless of the non-disclosure agreement they’d all signed that promised a ruthless legal proceeding—so he figured he could go without covering them for this session. Baby steps, and he wouldn’t want them to think he was acting _weird_ , suddenly covering them up. 

With a deep breath, Tim finally steeled himself and made his way to the study.

“Good afternoon Timothy,” his tutor greeted. “Well aren’t you looking dashing today!” she smiled.

“Oh, thank you, Ms. Baker,” Tim smiles back. It’s empty. _See what happens when you actually listen to your parents, Tim?_ His thoughts kind of sound like his mother. _You should stop listening to a delusional, manipulative spirit stuck in a mirror._ “So what’s on the agenda today?”

It’s another boring English lesson on how to analyze text, but he somehow powers through. His lessons are different each day, broken up by subject and repeated each week. Monday is English, Tuesday is Science, Wednesday is History, Thursday is Mathematics, and Fridays usually alternate between Geography or a Language (for which he’s chosen Arabic, simply because it sounds rhythmic and also looks quite pretty).

While he’s working on his assignment afterwards—the tutor having left after her hour-long lesson—he ponders what else he could do about the Batman Situation. Maybe the butler could help?

The assignment and distracting thoughts kill enough time before dinner, where Tim reheats whatever was left in a tupperware for him to eat. Dinnertime is used to watch the news for any action from the Rogues for him to investigate (though he largely disregards Poison Ivy and Catwoman. Harley is a little bit iffy, depending on if she’s with the Joker or not. Tim silently thinks that they are all very cool, and would like to meet them one day, hopefully in a nonviolent scenario). 

After dinner, Tim looks through The Book of Remedies to entertain himself. He finds a spell to make shadows cling to you (for sneaking) but he doesn’t care to try it because of the side effects listed to the side: _Be cautious when practicing this spell, as Dark Creatures or Spirits may mistake you as one of them. Have a nearby source of Light or a Protection Spell (explained on page 23) in order to deter the Dark from attacking._

Finally, when it gets to be dark enough outside, Tim dons his night clothes and gear, and heads outside, turning off all the lights in the big, empty house and locking the door, making his way into the city. 

Tim settles down on his favorite perch, high above the street and out of sight, and readies his camera. He keeps a keen eye out for any shadows with pointed bat ears.

He’s only sat for about twenty minutes, in the middle of thinking about finding a spell for seeing in the dark when he spots the iconic silhouette. Tim observes him for a bit while the Bat observes the streets below, and Tim quietly readies himself. Backpack buttoned close (zippers and noisy buckles are the worst when you’re trying to be stealthy), feet crouched under him, hands on his camera with the strap around his neck, ready to follow the Batman on foot. 

And the man takes off.

The shadow descends against the glow of the streetlights (Tim quickly snaps a photo) before the grapple line pulls taught and starts reeling in, and Tim starts running after him.

Tim clears the jump between the roofs, ducking his head and rolling to keep his camera safe. He’s taken to keeping his backpack strapped to his front, and tucking his camera into it when it’s not in use. Yes, it does shift his center of gravity a small bit, but that’s better than having a shattered camera any day. 

Tim vaults over vent shafts and cat leaps from roof to roof until he’s caught up to where the Bat has stopped to fight. It’s a simple armed robbery, and while Tim hasn’t exactly kept pace with The Batman—a big muscular man with tons of gadgets to help him—the robber hasn’t been completely punched out and detained yet. And while Batman does seem a tad bit growl-y, he stops once the guy has dropped unconscious. Once the perp is zip-tied and reported, police sirens nearing, Batman is gone again.

This continues for a while, Batman seemingly becoming more and more agitated as the night continues, until he doesn’t hold back.

Tim is watching him ruthlessly punch a man, and he makes a breakthrough. 

_If no one else will save Batman, then I will._

Tim hurriedly packs away his camera, buttons his backpack and moves it to his back, before he rushes down the fire escape and towards the alley on the opposite side of the street.

The man on the ground is unconscious and Batman’s gloves have a glistening of blood over the knuckles as Tim shouts, “Batman! Stop!” Batman keeps on punching the man until Tim gets even closer, maybe three feet away, and says again, “Stop it, Batman!”

The angry man finally registers Tim’s voice and turns to look at him. There’s blood coming from both his nose and his mouth, a bruise darkening the right side of his jaw.

“Batman,” Tim says timidly, like this man in front of him is a rabid animal, “you don’t have to do this. _He_ wouldn’t have wanted you to do _this_. You need to stop this.”

“This scum deserves it!” Batman snarls. He’s terrifying.

“Sure, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. There are other ways to heal. I think you may just need some help.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do! To tell me what I need! _What he would have wanted!_ ” Batman seethes, still frozen over the unconscious criminal, a hand twisted in the front of his shirt. “He would have wanted that _bastard_ to stay dead!” he shouts. 

“Probably! But he also wouldn’t have wanted you to hurt yourself like this! You have no balance anymore! Let me help you!” Tim yells. Batman’s shoulders untense a minuscule amount and he drops the unconscious man from his grip. He finally stands, jaw still set firmly in anger.

“How could _you_ help me.” Batman glares at Tim and then grapples away.

Tim calls the police about the criminal in the alley and then retreats back to the roofs. 

He takes a few deep breaths.

He slinks in the shadows all the way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i may be renaming this soon?? as well as re-doing the summary
> 
> i have a few ideas...
> 
> please consider leaving a comment and/or kudos!!


End file.
